Come Rain or Perfect Storm
by EatTheRich
Summary: If he was going to kill her anyway, she was going to give him a damned good reason. Sort of SI!Dorcas Meadowes. SHORT CHAPTERS.
1. Chapter 1

Eyes trained on the small cat figurine stretching languidly in her hands, she wonders if using magic is meant to be so easy. She knows it's not really her—or, not the original her, at any rate. She had never had any particular talent in anything _Before,_ and she can feel a slight sense of wrongness that clings to the magic she wields _Now._

It must be her new self, she decides. After all, the original Dorcas Meadowes, she-who-was-killed-by-Voldemort-himself, must have been an exceptionally dangerous witch. With the ease in which she calls upon her magic, using it for almost anything she can think of, she understands why he might have thought her a threat.

She can't wait.

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**Don't own.**

**AN: I'm sure there were plenty of other reasons why Voldemort killed Dorcas personally, but I like to pretend it was because she was powerful because fuck the idea that only these old white men are able to become ridiculously powerful. **


	2. Chapter 2

Making friends was hard _Before_. The crippling anxiety and depression made sure of that.

It's easier _Now_, as someone else. She thinks that her "issues" may have died when she did: or maybe her new self is simply better at compartmentalizing. Perhaps her hormones will find themselves out of wack again once puberty comes back around.

She's thankful, in any case. She remembers a time when smiling was hard, but she faked it anyway so no one would see _how_ hard it was. Now smiles come easier and more often, and she thinks this is what normality must feel like. There's still some acting involved, of course, but it's now more in a "pretending to be a normal child" sort of way, rather than a "pretending to be a functional and emotionally stable human being" way.

"Dorcas Meadowes, nice ta meet'ya!" she greets with a grin at the children who help her back into the magic-guided boat she'd fallen out of.

The red-haired girl grins back, "Lily Evans. This is my best friend Severus Snape."

The gloomy boy nods minutely, and Dorcas recognizes the guarded look in his eyes as one she once held. She purposely softens her gaze, making sure to hide the calculative glint she's sure is there, and offers her hand out to the dour boy.

"I think we'll get along great."

* * *

**AN: oh Dorcas. Rebirth didn't magically cure all your mental health issues, they just manifest differently. It'll be more obvious in later chapters.**


	3. Chapter 3

"How do you think we're getting sorted?" Lily asks, nervously wringing her hands.

"Mother never said," Severus says simply, valiantly (for an eleven year old) disguising his own nerves.

"Maybe they pick names out of a hat," Dorcas suggests jokingly. "Or better yet, a talking hat chooses our house for us. Anything can happen with magic, apparently."

"Ridiculous," a sneering boy with sallow skin and curly black hair cuts in. "But what else can you expect from a filthy little mud-"

The slur is cut off by a boy with glasses who elbows passed the angry one, a frown on his face.

"No one asked you, Rosier," the new boy says before turning to meet her gaze. "Sorry about him. I'm James Potter."

Dorcas studies the boy's wild hair and brown skin a couple shades lighter than her own, committing him to memory. Barely a beat passes before she quirks a smile. "Dorcas Meadowes."

His gaze flickers to her companions, mouth opening, but is interrupted by the doors to the Great Hall opening.

Here comes the easy part.

* * *

**AN: and we meet some other characters. That's always fun.**


	4. Chapter 4

**_"And what do we have here, hm? I don't know that I've ever had the pleasure of sorting something like you," _**says the hat, and she tries not to take offense to being called a "thing."

_'I'm just your average, everyday reincarnated soul from another dimension. Nothing special,'_ she thinks sarcastically, rolling her eyes even though she knows there's no way it can see it. It can probably sense it somehow, though, and that's good enough for her.

**_"Oh, but you're something special all right, something very special indeed," _**it tells her lightly, chuckling softly. **_"But you knew that already. 'Voldemort killed her personally,' is that right? Then it seems there's only one place for you to go. But you knew _that_ already, too, didn't you?"_**

_'I'd really rather be in Ravenclaw,' _she informs the hat wistfully, only half joking.

**_"GRYFFINDOR!"_**

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**AN: Personally, I would hate to be in Gryffindor. They're too intense. Also, be aware that Dorcas is an unreliable narrator. When the hat calls her "very special," I imagine it sort of mocking the way she sees herself. She's so full of herself its embarrassing. **


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm so glad we're in the same house, Dorcas," Lily confesses, moving over to allow her to sit. "I hope Sev will be, too."

She says nothing in response, knowing that won't be the case. Sure enough, when Severus is called up, no more than ten seconds does it sit on his head when the hat calls a loud, _**"SLYTHERIN."**_

Dorcas watches Lily wilt, smiling at Severus sadly as he sits alone at the edge of the Slytherin table.

"I really hoped we'd end up together," Lily murmurs glumly.

_And so the fun begins,_ Dorcas thinks to herself, plastering a determined look on her face.

Grabbing Lily's hand, she stands.

"Let's go then."

* * *

**AN: I might be taking a break from updating, or maybe I'll just be updating less frequently, because I have a lot of papers to write. Not to mention all the academic journal articles I have read just to write those papers.**


	6. Chapter 6

She carefully arranges food on her plate, ignoring the stares with ease. Lily and Severus have a harder time, but she's happy to see them trying to imitate her nonchalance. They're terrible at it, obviously, but it's probably enough to fool the other children.

"What do you think _you're_ doing here?" the boy from earlier, Rosier, demands furiously.

"Having dinner with my friends," Dorcas responds happily, looking at the angry boy, smiling all the while.

More bees with honey, and all that.

Her civility throws him off, but his pause isn't a long one.

"You're meant to sit with your own house, don't you know anything?"

"I didn't see any such rules in _Hogwarts: A History_."

"There are just some things you're _supposed_ to know—when you're _born_ into magic, at least," he sneers, smirking when the other first year Slytherins laugh.

"And I suppose one of those things that you're '_supposed_ to know' _isn't_ how the Sorting Ceremony works. Because I seem to remember one of us being right, and the other one being _you_."

So much for "honey." She'll have to work harder on keeping her temper in check.

Though, judging by the grudging respect on a few of the kids' faces, it wasn't the worst misstep.

* * *

**AN: Had some extra time today so I decided to post this. I've still got like two term papers to finish, and then three presentations to plan so I still won't be posting regularly. I'm actually really glad I chose to write drabble chapters. They're really quick to write. **


	7. Chapter 7

She had been beginning to wonder, if canon-Dorcas had been so powerful, why she'd been only a footnote in the first war. Almost a month or so into her first year, she thinks she understands.

Children were _lazy_. With a few exceptions, the majority of her house-mates were more prone to simply mess around, doing the bare minimum required to keep up with their classes, if they're even keeping up at all.

She can just imagine canon-Dorcas, young and malleable, surrounded by an entire house of quidditch obsessed underachievers and absorbing all of their bad habits. It was probably made even easier since she was so naturally skilled at using magic, she would've still excelled in most of her studies with less effort than many of her peers.

It's actually a little unfair. If she weren't the one living Dorcas' life right now she'd probably be jealous.

As laid-back as she's beginning to imagine canon-Dorcas was, she also knows she had a temper. She feels it flare up every time something even vaguely inconvenient happens. It's not usually a particularly strong temper—certainly not enough to force her to act on her annoyance—but it's ridiculous how easily it comes to life. The feeling is strange, as it isn't something she remembers experiencing in her past life. She'd had the patience of a saint _Before_.

Dorcas thinks this temper is what finally got canon-Dorcas into gear during the war, what with everyone she knew dying all because some power-hungry asshats decided that muggleborns (like Dorcas) were subhuman and didn't deserve to live. It's probably what gave her the initiative to sharpen her skills to the point Voldemort decided to end her life himself.

It's probably this same temper that made Dorcas, in the here and now, decide she was going to fuck up all of Voldemort's plans.

* * *

**AN: Despite what Dorcas seems to think, I imagine there are actually a lot of Gryffindors that do well school-wise. If you've ever seen the movie Book Smart, Dorcas is kind of like Molly—she sees all these kids acting like idiots, and assumes they are idiots in every aspect, like academics. Yeah, Dorcas is really judgmental. It's traits like that that make Dorcas a sort of SI instead of a complete SI. She's me, but with my characteristics highly exaggerated. **


	8. Chapter 8

Every morning, Dorcas takes care to dress properly while still pleasing to the eye. Voldemort may be her ultimate enemy, but he was also her blueprint, in a way.

To be a danger to him, she must first also be on his level.

From what she remembers, Tom Riddle's charm and good looks helped him greatly to obtain his followers. Logic follows that, to steal these future-followers of his before he even so much as looks in their direction, she must be all that he was and more.

Except, maybe without the evil, murderous tendencies.

So, while he ruled through fear and hatred, she would rule through love and kindness.

Like Margeary Tyrell, basically.

Dorcas takes a deep breath, shivering slightly in anticipation.

_Be Margeary Tyrell._

* * *

**AN: I'm officially finished with finals, so I should be back to updating Mondays and Thursdays.**


	9. Chapter 9

Kindness doesn't come naturally to her. Maybe it had a long time ago, but as time passed and anger and hatred became her constant companions, _Before-Dorcas_ had found herself jaded. Politeness was easy to dredge up, but kindness—_true kindness_—had become something of a privilege that not many had earned. _Now-Dorcas_ doesn't seem all too skilled on that front, either.

Luckily, she used to be quite the adept liar, a skill that seems to have transferred over into this new life of hers, so faking it takes no more energy than putting on her shirt every morning.

_"I'm never going to get it. Why am I such an idiot?"_

"You're not an idiot, some people just learn differently than others. You'll get it eventually, I promise, and I'll be there with you every step of the way." _Yes, exactly like this._

_"Why doesn't she like me back? What's wrong with me?"_

"Nothing. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you. Sometimes people just aren't compatible, and that's okay. I know it hurts now, but it won't last forever. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm right here, always, okay?" _Fake it 'til you make it._

_"I didn't need your help! I would've been fine without you."_

"Maybe you would have been fine alone, Sev. But you shouldn't have to deal with that alone. You shouldn't have to deal with that _at all_. No matter what they say, you don't deserve to be treated like that, no one does. And if it takes me kicking the crap out of them over and over again to get them to understand that, then so help me I will." _And eventually you'll begin to believe it yourself._

* * *

**AN: In case it wasn't clear, she's talking to Snape in this chapter. Like, all throughout, it's just snippets of separate conversations she's had with him. Tbh, I don't really like this chapter, but it's necessary for the story. I tried changing it up but this is as good as it's gonna get.**


	10. Chapter 10

So, maybe Dorcas miscalculated. Just a tiny bit.

"Still on for the library after Herbology?" Lily asks, smile wide and relieved, all traces of the awkwardness that arose after Severus' confession and subsequent rejection gone.

Severus looks at Dorcas inquisitively as well, and she can clearly see the poorly disguised hope in his eyes.

When Dorcas had subtly convinced Severus that the best course of action was to confess his feelings to Lily as soon as possible, she'd pictured things turning out _much_ differently.

She'd known that Lily would reject him on account of her not seeing him as anything more than a friend, and also because eleven year old Lily Evans just isn't interested in romance yet anyway. Dorcas would steer Severus in the right direction after that—maybe he would never get over Lily, but he'd learn to be happy for her as a friend. And with Dorcas cheering them both up and helping them sort through their confusing prepubescent emotions, she would cement her place within their friendship. With that, she'd have two major players on her side and the rest of her Hogwarts years to maneuver them into place.

All this without the unnecessary complications that Severus' unrequited love for Lily could cause to her plans.

But Dorcas had made a mistake. She'd been thinking of Severus as the Snape from canon—a jaded man who had let the years after Lily's death twist his infatuation with the first person to show him any kindness into a full blown obsession that would only die when the man himself did.

But Severus is still just a child right now. And, just like she had said of canon-Dorcas, he's malleable. His feelings for Lily hadn't even been that strong in the first place, not yet, and they were apparently _very_ easily transferred.

Still, what's done is done.

"Of course," Dorcas responds, smiling widely at them, letting out a soft laugh when her gaze meets Severus' before he averts his eyes in embarrassment.

She'll figure out how to deal with this later. She has to.

* * *

**AN: I know I just posted, but my dad's in the hospital now and I don't know when I'll have the time or motivation to update so I wanted to tell you guys now instead of just ghosting. I haven't gotten a chance to edit this, so I'll try to fix any big issues when I start posting again.**


	11. Chapter 11

The people around her—her friends, her classmates, her professors—she knows they're _real_ now. They have their own thoughts, feelings, dreams, and all that other stuff that makes one human. She _knows_ that.

But she doesn't let herself forget what they _used_ to be, either—words written on a page, thoughts pulled from the mind of some random English woman who just didn't know when to let things end.

Remembering what they used to be helps her keep her focus. After all, whatever kindness she shows them, whatever fun they have together, she's still _using_ them. They may be people, but they're _also_ pawns, and she intends to use them to the best of her ability. Maybe that makes her a terrible person, but she refuses to let this life end the same way it did _Before._ She refuses to die sad and alone, leaving nothing to be remembered by.

Dorcas intends to be more than what she was in canon—an afterthought, a blink and you miss it throwaway line in the story of someone else's life.

So she'll do whatever she needs to, arranging her pieces on the board in whatever way necessary to give herself the upper hand.

And if she still feels the guilt pool in the pit of her stomach with her every cleverly timed compliment and carefully worded suggestion, well that's her business.

* * *

**AN: My dad's fine, if anyone's wondering. He was in the ICU for a bit, but he bounced back remarkably fast. **

**Anyway, I was kind of reluctant to come back to this story, if only because JK Rowling has been steadily pissing me off as time has gone on, and with the recent stuff that she's done, it felt weird trying to write for this. But it was already half done anyway, so I just finished it.**


	12. Chapter 12

"Can we start with Potions?" Dorcas asks her two friends, digging through her bag for her quill. She almost wishes she'd done that fan fiction thing where they bring actual pens to this outdated wonderland, but she knows she can't afford to stand out like that yet.

"You mean you haven't done the essay yet?" Lily asks incredulously, settling into the seat directly across from her. "It's due tomorrow and we've had all week."

"And I've been working on it! The subject matter's just been kicking me in the ass," Dorcas complains, and it's not even a lie. No amount of prior knowledge and college level essay skills (or naturally talented wandwork) is going to change the fact that the "alternative uses of Ashwinder eggs" is a dull subject to study, especially for someone not at all skilled at potions. At first, she'd hoped that she could bullshit her way through Potions, but it proved too similar to Chemistry—her oldest nemesis.

There's a reason she's so reluctant to lose Severus as an ally.

"I can show you some good references," Severus offers from his seat beside her, fiddling with his quill.

"That'd be fantastic, thanks Sev," Dorcas flashes him a smile. "Since I'm apparently the only one needing to work on Potions, what do you two need help with?"

"History of Magic," Lily admits, heaving a sigh. "It's so disappointing, too. I'd love to learn all about how the Wizarding World became what it is today, but Professor Binns..."

"Should be _thrown_ in the bin?" Dorcas suggests, causing Severus to roll his eyes at the admittedly bad pun.

"Normally I'd reprimand you, but, well, you're not wrong," she says with a giggle. "How 'bout you Sev? What do you need work on?"

"Transfiguration," Severus grimaces, looking at his textbook with disdain.

"So we're going over three different subjects today? Guess it'll be a long night," Dorcas sighs, echoed by her friends.

And a long night it was, but not for the reason they expected.

* * *

**AN: Happy Holidays! This is late because I'll be moving soon so I haven't had a lot of free time. I'll probably only be posting once a week for now, so either Monday or Thursday, but probably not both. I'll try to inform you beforehand if I need to miss a week, though. **


	13. Chapter 13

"If it isn't the mudblood lover and his pets," Rosier sneers down at them, looking particularly nasty when Dorcas meets his gaze. "I didn't think they allowed _animals_ into the library."

Dorcas feels anger bubble up, but forces herself to take a moment to consider her options. She doesn't remember much of Rosier, only really vaguely recognizes his name, so there's no telling how important he was to Voldemort's movement. He is in Slytherin, though, Voldemort's main recruitment pool, so she thinks he might be worth swaying to her side.

Outright friendliness hadn't worked on him the first time, and neither had defiance. _Maybe..._

"How'd you do on the Charms test last week?" Dorcas asks abruptly, completely dismissing his insult. She sees him wince, and she knows she has him—how _lucky_ she is to have been present in time to hear him complain _loudly_ in the halls the other day about how 'utterly useless and ridiculous' a subject Charms is. "We'll help you study if you help us in return."

She can feel the bewildered stares of her friends, but she does nothing to clear up their confusion, simply continues staring at Rosier expectantly.

"Why would I want _your_ help? You're just a mud-"

"Lily and I have top marks there," Dorcas cuts him off, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, we could use your help in History of Magic. You were right, there are just some things you understand better when you're _born_ into magic."

A bargain plus an appeal to his sense of superiority. Simple but, assuming he takes the bait, should open the doors to better opportunities for her to take advantage of later.

He seems to hesitate, and Dorcas feels a sense of triumph. After all, if he were completely against the idea he would just leave.

As a final incentive, Dorcas shoots him a challenging look—equal parts daring and arrogant—and the boy immediately squares his shoulders, shooting the three of them a haughty smirk.

"Well, _of course_ you'd need my help."

Ah, kids can be so simple sometimes.

* * *

**AN: Dorcas really isn't as good at manipulating as she thinks she is. Anyone older than the age of maybe sixteen would probably see through her, lol. **


	14. Chapter 14

The study session drags on. Rosier makes sure to take every chance he can get to rib them about their lack of magical heritage. Dorcas, in turn, ribs him for having access to magic all his life yet only achieving average marks. Lily and Severus, for their part, make as many references to muggle things as they can, knowing the bigoted boy won't be able to understand and is much too prideful to ask.

It's a long study session.

Rosier, as it turns out, is a surprisingly competent tutor. Despite all the insults, he manages to explain the intricacies of the Wizarding World in great detail, while also keeping it easy to understand.

Maybe she'll steer him towards teaching. It would probably keep him out of Voldemort's hands, as Dumbledore usually prefers his professors to be Dark Mark free, with some notable exceptions.

Some time later, Severus makes a dry comment about Slughorn—something about what he'd lost first: his hair or his dignity—that makes the rest of them giggle. Rosier included. The boy stills after that, as if realizing that he'd just laughed, that he'd _genuinely enjoyed himself_ (if only for a moment) in the presence of not one, but _two_ mudbloods.

He packs up his things and leaves without a word.

The atmosphere is different after that.


	15. Chapter 15

"Why'd you invite Rosier to study with us?" Severus asks as they make their way to the Great Hall for dinner, and she knows she's not imagining the slight jealousy in his tone.

Dorcas frowns, trying to look pensive. "Well, for one, we really _did_ need the help of someone more immersed in Wizarding culture."

"But there are _plenty_ of other purebloods in the school," Lily argues. "And some of them aren't even bigots."

"But they weren't there in the library with us, were they?" Dorcas points out, to which her friends reluctantly agree with. "Besides, I just..."

"What?" Severus prompts when she trails off for a beat too long.

"If it were you, wouldn't you want someone to give you a chance?"

"Well, it wouldn't _be_ me, because _I_ know _better_ than to act like a stuck-up _bigot_," Severus huffs immediately, and Dorcas almost laughs at the irony. She doesn't, of course, but it's a close one.

"Everyone deserves a chance, Severus," the lie burns her tongue, but you wouldn't know it from how easily it slid out. She stops walking, and they follow suit the moment they notice. With a far away look, she tells them, "sometimes a simple kindness is all you need to change the world. That's how I'd do it."

Her friends nod, accepting her wisdom, and she wonders if they'll ever realize that that last part was the most truthful thing she's ever said to them. Likely the most truthful thing she _will_ _ever_ say to them.

She doubts it.

* * *

Perfection isn't the image she strives to project. It's too impersonal, too unapproachable, too _unrelatable._

Perfection is fine for Tom Riddle, who thrives on being better than everyone else, whose charisma relies solely on people recognizing him as superior and being flattered when he acknowledges them, who uses this perceived superiority to prevent others from questioning his authority.

Perfection is for tyrants.

And perfection just doesn't inspire the type of loyalty that she _needs._

So Dorcas Meadowes is not perfect. She struggles so much with Potions she once burned half her hair off. She is kind, but vulgar. She never lies, is really very bad at lying, always wearing her heart on her sleeve. She's sensitive, had once gotten so angry with the Marauders that she cried, all while throwing hexes at them. She's fierce, but always willing to give people a chance to change—perhaps more chances than they deserve.

This is the image Dorcas shows the world. _This_ is the image Dorcas crafted specifically for her plans: awkward, warm, _earnest._

Just enough truth to keep her straight, and just enough lies to keep her on her toes.

A difficult balancing act, to be sure, but it will all be worth it in the end. She hopes.

* * *

Dorcas had decided early on that the Marauders were not her problem. Her goal wasn't saving the world or preserving canon or whatever—the only thing she cared about was stealing what would have once belonged to Riddle right out from under his (possibly still existing) nose.

While it's true that she doesn't _quite_ remember as much about canon as she would like, Dorcas is pretty sure that the Marauders were firmly under Dumbledore's wing, so to speak.

Therefore, she'll reiterate, _not her problem._

So she's a little confused as to why she's suddenly watching Remus Lupin walk over to her usual library table, led by an enthusiastic Lily and a bored Severus. Severus sits across from her, Lily immediately taking the seat at his side, leaving Remus to sit beside Dorcas. Severus starts a little at that, as if just realizing the seat beside her was free, turning a suspicious glance at Remus. Lily, noticing the look, elbows him sharply, hissing at him "_everyone deserves a chance,_" causing him to deflate a bit.

Oh. Well, then.

Dorcas should really learn to be a bit more careful with her manipulations. She can't decide whether all these "fun" little bonuses that keep occurring mean she's really good at this, or just really, _really_ bad.

She'll just keep pretending it's the former and carry on, otherwise she might just have a nervous breakdown.

"Hey, Lupin," Dorcas greets politely, letting her curiosity bleed into her voice. "Fancy seeing you here."

The boy shuffled nervously in his seat, gaze darting between Dorcas and her friends before finally settling on staring at his hands.

"Hello," he responds quietly.

When he fails to say anything more, Dorcas turns her gaze to her friends, raising an eyebrow. Severus shrugs, gesturing for Lily to answer. Scowling at him for a moment, she turns to Dorcas, grinning excitedly.

"Remus here says he's good at Defense, but he's having trouble with Potions," Lily explains, and Dorcas notes how the boy in question turns a bit red, as if embarrassed to be the center of attention. "So, I thought he could join us!"

_And maybe he can get his friends to leave Severus alone_, goes unsaid.

Dorcas looks to Severus, who smiles tightly but doesn't protest, so with a mental sigh, Dorcas pastes on her widest grin and nudges Remus' side gently. When he looks up from his hands, she allows her grin to soften into something more akin to a real smile.

"Welcome to the team, Remus," she says happily, noting the exact moment he registers her use of his first name, as opposed to his last.

His answering smile is wobbly and shy, but more true than her own.

* * *

**AN: I'm tired. This semester was already kicking my ass before the outbreak, and now I just want to sleep forever. College sucks. These were the last three chapters I had written since I haven't really had a lot of motivation to do much these days, but I felt bad just leaving you guys with nothing this whole time, so I'm posting them now as one chapter. I don't know when I'll be updating next, but hopefully the wait won't be too long.**

**In any case, I hope you all are staying safe through all this. Remember to wash your hands and keep social-distancing if you can.**


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